


Bloom

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Parent-Child Relationship, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10860081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: "Emma fingered the stick in front of her. It read "pregnant" in small letters. She sprung for the test that said pregnant or not pregnant. She didn't want to take any chances with lines or ink. It was clear as day that way. No mistakes."Emma and Killian's family is growing, and for once, it is bliss.





	1. Pregnancy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coaldustcanary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/gifts).



> This has been a work in progress for quite some time. It started as a response to the fact that OUAT seemingly cannot have a normal pregnancy on this show without it being traumatic or otherwise very sad. This is the result. This series will be following the arc of Emma's totally normal, only lightly angsty pregnancy that will end 100% happy. That is my guarantee. No prophecies. No speeding up. A super normal pregnancy.
> 
> As for the timing of posting this...well, we could all use some fluff, and I'm not letting reality get me down.

_Why should I be unhappy? Every parcel of my being is in full bloom._   
_-Rumi_

Emma tapped her fingers on the table, her nails _clack-clack-clacking_ on the wood with each downward press. She listened to the steady tick-tock of the clock, understanding with sudden clarity why Barrie had one haunt his interpretation of her husband. 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

Her husband wasn't home. He was at store working his way down the list of things she'd hastily scribbled before he walked out the door. The list was long, and she didn't really need half the things she sent him to buy, but she needed him gone, not anywhere near her while she processed the impending changes to their life. He would be home soon, which meant that she had to decide just what course of action to take.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

The house was quiet. Whenever Henry stayed with Regina, there was a certain stillness to their home. Even when he was there, he opted to listen to music via headphones. He was teenager, meaning he didn't want to draw attention to himself. She liked the quiet, sometimes. Other times, not so much. It reminded Emma of her time as the Dark One -- the house barren, dead. 

It won't be like that much longer.

Emma fingered the stick in front of her. It read "pregnant" in small letters. She sprung for the test that said pregnant or not pregnant. She didn't want to take any chances with lines or ink. It was clear as day that way. No mistakes.

This was the fourth positive test she had taken. She used magic to dispose of the three others, sending them to the Storybrooke dump away from prying eyes. Storybrooke was bad enough about gossip. She wouldn't put it past a nosy neighbor to glance through her trash, and have the news travel before she even told the father.

The baby wasn't planned. She was on birth control, but she and Killian had been sloppy with using extra protection the week she had been getting over a sinus infection. Damn antibiotics and their stupid side effects. 

There was a dark side of her that wanted to laugh about how both her children weren't planned. She could prevent the destruction of untold realms, but pregnancy? What a great Savior she was!

At least things were better this time around. The only jail she was in was when she booked someone. She had a stable job. She wasn't living out of the bug. She had a support system: friends, family, and –

Killian.

Emma had Killian. He was there for her, he would never abandon her. He loved her. Truly in the fairy tale, curse-breaking kind of way. She knew how he'd react once she told him the news. He'd be elated, but he would hold it back to test her reaction first. Always waiting for her, that's how he normally approached any relationship milestone. (Even when he didn't want to, Emma thought, the memory of his first proposal flitting through her mind.)

So why was she afraid? 

She and Killian had been married for almost a year, and things had been peaceful by Storybrooke standards. And that was the rub - "by Storybrooke standards". Their home was as fantastical as the curse that had created it, with dangers Emma never could have eve imagined. Prior to moving here, the worst Emma could have imagined was a random terrorist attack or freak train derailment. Here she had to worry about time travel, and realm hopping, and memory spells. 

What if a villain made her forget her own child?

Emma wasn't even sure how pregnancy and raising an infant would even work. Her mother had pulled it off, but the bulk of her pregnancy had been spent in the Enchanted Forest. Both Zelena and Belle had their pregnancies magically sped up, which Emma was sure wasn't entirely healthy. Not to mention the kidnapping. Her little brother had been kidnapped, as had Gideon. Gideon, in turn, had attempted to murder her and her family. What would she do if her kid was kidnapped and went all Terminator?

Pregnancies were supposed to be happy things, right? Not riddled with anxiety regarding villains and portals and crazed relatives seeking revenge. What If Killian had more surprise relatives who wanted him dead? What if _she_ did?

What made matters worse was that for a brief moment she had been happy. The first, second, and third time the tests turned positive - Pregnant! - she had been elated. Emma could easily picture a boy with her green eyes and his dark hair running through the house. Or a little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl receiving archery lessons on the lawn. But somewhere between test three and four, anxiety had creeped in and taken hold. 

She could get rid of it, but that didn't seem right either. Truth was, she wanted the baby. She and Killian could pack up the house and move seven states over, but even then Emma was convinced that somehow, some way, a villain would find them. After all, it was she who nearly became engaged to the flying monkey. 

Emma felt the pinpricks of tears at the corner of her eyes, and tried to will them away. It was a lost cause. Not only was she a mess of hormones, but she was stressed, anxious, and more than a little overwhelmed. 

"It's gonna be okay," she said to herself, as if announcing it aloud would somewhat make her statement more true. "You're going to be fine."

It was then when she heard the district sound of the boards of the front steps creaking, indicating that someone was outside. She had been meaning to fix the stairs, tighten them or whatever one did to stairs -- a handy woman, Emma was not -- but she was grateful for the alert that allowed her to shove the test out of sight. Killian likely didn't know what a pregnancy test looked like, but she didn't want to take the chance of him seeing it first.

As expect, he swept through the front door, grocery bags hanging from his hooked arm. 

"Good news, love, there was a two-for-one special on those pints of ice cream you and Henry enjoy. Never let it be said that I--" Whatever Killian had been saying died in his throats when  caught sight of her. Emma knew she must look miserable, cheeks flushed from her earlier bout of tears. "Emma, what's wrong?"

He rushed over to her, dropping the bags front of the door. Emma had half a mind to tell him to put the ice cream in the freezer, but relented. She knew Killian. His focus would be completely on her. Instead, she waved her hand and magicked what she hoped was the ice cream into the freezer. There was no use getting it all melty while she and Killian had a serious conversation.

"I love you, you know that right?" She asked, wanting to stress that the conflicting emotions she felt had nothing to do with him. 

"Yes." His brows furrowed even as he took a set next to her at the table. He eyed her suspiciously and said nothing more.

"And you know how we've talked about wanting a future," she continued, knowing she was beginning to ramble," but here's the thing, we never exactly ironed out what exactly that was gonna entail, and when those things were gonna happen."

"And you desire to have that conversation now?" Killian asked, enunciating every word slowly as if he was trying to wrap his mind around the concept. He reached over and clasped her left hand in his right, rubbing his thumb over her rings. "Darling, if that's what you're worried about, there's no need to be."

"I'm - I'm-" Emma began, struggling over what she was intending to say. She'd never been good with the whole talking thing. Flowery language and grand announcements had always been Killian's forte. One would think that after a year of marriage, some of it would have rubbed off, but nope. "God, I should have prepared a speech."

"Emma, you can tell me anything." Killian kept his voice soothing, but Emma could sense the undercurrent of worry there. She supposed if he had been acting similarly, she too would be worried.

Deciding that actions spoke louder than words, Emma let go of Killian's hand and pulled out the pregnancy test she had hidden, shoving it unceremoniously toward him. Brows furrowed, he picked it up and studied it intently. 

"What's this?" he asked, because as expected, it was obvious he had never seen such a thing. "And why does it say..."

His voice trailed off. Her husband was an intelligent man. He could put two and two together and figure out just why she was handing him a stick that said "Pregnant" on a tiny little screen. He looked from it to her, realization dawning on his face. 

"Emma," he said, her name coming out half-gasp, half-whisper. He sat the test down delicately, almost reverently, as if he believed that moving too quickly would upset the balance of what it had revealed. 

"So, yeah, that's the thing. The future we didn't elaborate on is here." She gestured vaguely to her abdomen where a tiny lump of cells was slowly developing into a small human. 

"I see," Killian replied. He now looked as if he were grappling with his own words. "Swan, how are you feeling?"

It was his way of asking how he should feel. Her pirate wasn't that difficult to read.

"I feel happy, but mostly scared," she admitted. "I have no idea how this is even going to work here or anywhere, you know, with our crazy, fucked up lives."

He was silent for a moment.. After what felt like forever, he asked, "How would you feel if our lives weren't so crazy? If we lived a lifestyle that you considered 'normal', like you had in New York with Henry?"

"Still happy, a lot less terrified. Probably still freaked out, but about the normal stuff," Emma answered truthfully. "But I don't think going to New York is the answer either."

"Of course not." Killian shook his heads "But allow me to remind you that you'd still be both happy and afraid no matter what lifestyle we lead."

She sighed. She understood what he was trying to do, let her know her reactions were totally normal. That no matter where they were and the lives they were living, she would likely still be afraid on some level. 

"We can't pretend our lifestyle is the easiest," she told him, looking away as she felt the tears come again. "Our kid wouldn't exactly have the most normal of lives."

"Our child will have both a mother and father who loves it," Killian replied, his tone taking the authorial tone of a captain. "It will also have adoring grandparents, a protective older brother, and what I imagine will be s handful of devoted honorary aunts and uncles standing alongside those it will have by blood."

“That doesn’t guarantee its safety or even normalcy.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Killian shook his head. “But it’s more than either you or I had.”  
  
Emma was silent. She didn’t know how to formulate a response, couldn’t really. His words struck her. She, the girl who bounced from home to home, and he, the boy raised a slave and abandoned by his father were discussing their future and their unborn child.  
  
Sometimes, Emma was overtaken by the awe of how far she’d come since those days in the systems. It was during moments when Henry would steal onion rings from her plate at Granny’s, or pancake breakfasts with her parents. And now here in the kitchen, Killian holding her hand and she worked through her feelings regarding her pregnancy. And then there was Killian, sold into slavery and practically raised by his brother. A life in the Navy, followed by a life of piracy and loss, finally to here, to her.

“So what do you say, love?” he asked, watching her meaningfully. Truth be told, Emma was still terrified of a curse, but something told her that if she asked about curses, Killian would counter by reminding her there might not be one.

And he was right, there might not be a course. Or there could be. But they’d be there, and her parents, and Regina and Zelena, as well. There would be a house the kid could come home to, the same house with the same bed. There’d be clothes that fit and kisses and “I love you”s every day. There’d be a home, one picked out by Killian and Henry, one they all filled together, their happy little family.

Wasn’t this the “Happy Beginning” they sang about all those months ago?

“I think,” she began finally, “I think that we should grab some spoons and eat the ice cream you got at the store. Celebrate.”

He grinned. “Aye, love, let’s celebrate.

She sealed it with a kiss.


	2. Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry has a few questions about Liam, and Killian is happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to unfolded73 for the beta!

There were few things that made Killian happier than spending the afternoon on the open seas, the wind whipping through his hair, and the smell of salt in the air. He was grateful Storybrooke was a seaside town, allowing him to set out whenever he pleased. Though the pirate in him bristled at having to keep permits and licenses on him at all times, he worked with the law now -- Deputy Sheriff Jones, what a title! -- and reminded him that he couldn't enforce the law if he was also breaking it. Killian supposed it was a small price to pay for the happiness he was feeling now. He had a home, a family, and a child on the way. It was everything he thought he would never have.

He wished Liam could see him now.

He was comforted by knowing that his older brother was in a better place now, unburdened by his own unfinished business. However, he wished that he could show Liam how his life had turned out, that he had finally done something right and had carried out the hero's journey that they both so wanted many years ago.

_ I hope you're proud, brother _ , he thought wistfully. 

Killian was happy that his own child, still so small in Emma's womb, would have an older brother to call its own. Henry was already a specular lad: smart and compassionate, everything a child could want in a sibling. Killian still marveled at how easily the boy had accepted him in his life, viewing him as a father figure and ally.

The aforementioned lad was puttering about the deck of the Jolly Roger, checking knots and ensuring that everything was ship shape as they sailed. Killian was already looking forward to when he could sail with both Henry and his child, Emma also by his side. It was everything he could want.

Gods, he was happy. 

He'd been walking around wearing a smile that Henry claimed made him look like "one of the Joker's poison gas victims." He didn't know what that meant, prompting Henry to introduce him to all things Batman. 

"You can't have a kid and not know who Batman is. It has to be illegal or something." 

(It wasn't. Killian checked.)

Regardless, Killian made sure to learn more about this Batman fellow. He most enjoyed the time spent with Henry and Emma curled up on the sofa watching Henry's favorite selection of Batman movies. 

Henry had taken well to the news that his family was growing once more. It was something that Emma had worried about.

“I gave him up, and Neal was AWOL, and now I'm married and keeping this kid," she'd cried out to him one night, half hysterical with fear that she was somehow betraying her first child with by having a second.

"You letting him go was the purest act of True Love I could imagine, Swan," he'd told her. It pained him to see his love believe that her choice to give up Henry was no better than what his father had done to him and Liam. The situations had no comparison. Despite his personal misgivings about Regina, she'd provided a safe and stable environment for the boy, and there was no doubting she loved her son. 

Thankfully, her fears had been unfounded and Henry had taken it all in stride, appearing quite pleased with the development. In fact, everyone was quite happy.

Both Dave and Snow had cried, with the former pulling Emma into a bear hug and not letting go for a solid ten minutes. Regina had congratulated them both in her own reserved way, though her eyes were glassy as she embraced them. Zelena had muttered something about their baby turning out to be "obnoxiously good-looking", and Granny had already started on a knitted blanket similar to Emma's. Belle had given Killian a rather long list of her favorite books to read to Gideon, proclaiming that both their children would surely be best friends. Most surprisingly, even the Crocodile had mentioned that "fatherhood is one of the most wonderful things to happen a man” before adding, “Best not mess it up."  (This was as close to an olive branch as there ever would be between the two men. Even then, it was only just.)

Life was good; it was everything he could ever want. And once the babe was born, it would get even better.

His mind drifted to his other brother. Killian wondered where he was now, how things were faring with Nemo. He regretted not being able to spend more time with Liam, but comforted himself with the knowledge that they parted on good terms. Maybe someday his younger brother would return to Storybrooke. If he came after Emma gave birth, then maybe Killian could introduce Liam to the newest Jones.

They had already decided they would go with Jones for the child's surname. Though Emma had opted to hyphenate her name, she was adamant not to do the same for their children.

"I mean, it makes their name incredibly long. And what happens if they get married and want to hyphenate then? Would they have three last names?" Emma had mused one evening as they lay in bed. "Trust me, Baby Jones is a-okay with me."

It was "a-okay" with him as well. While he wouldn't have minded hyphenating the baby's surname, Killian took certain delight with the fact that his offspring would bear his name. The Jones line would not die with him. 

They hadn't decided on first names, seeing no point until they learned the sex of the baby. Killian was amazed that the physicians could even learn such thing before birth. He was looking forward to the moment when he could think of the child as a "him" or "her", as opposed to an "it." (Though Emma had reminded him of the fluidity of such things.) But that moment was weeks away. Still, Killian often entertained himself by admiring the blurry image of "Baby Jones" on his phone, ready to love it no matter who it was.

"Hey, Killian," Henry called out to him, stirring the pirate from his reveries. "Can I take a turn at the wheel?"

"Helm," Killian corrected, even if the boy was partially correct. "And, yes. With supervision."

Henry rolled his eyes, but bounded forward anyway. At fifteen, Henry was already testing the limits of how far he could push. Killian tended to be more lax than either Emma or Regina, but he was trying to be a proper father figure. He was already humbled by the enormity of Emma and Regina trusting him with their son. He knew he had to do right by him. Not only did he owe it to Henry’s mothers, but to Bae and Milah as well. 

Every now and then, Henry would make a face or say a phrase that would remind Killian of Bae or Milah so much that it nearly brought him to his knees. He had their tenacity and spirit, and he of course had inherited their proficiency for sailing. There were many regrets Killian had about the Underworld, but gods, how he wished Milah would have been able to meet her grandson. He wished many things for Milah that she never got to experience. 

Killian shook his head, forcing himself to think happier thoughts. Henry had already taken over the helm. He considered using his talking phone to capture a picture of the moment to share with Emma. She was back in Storybrooke, having sworn off sailing until after she gave birth.

"My morning sickness has been awful enough, I refuse to be upchucking off the starboard port."

(Killian, being the survivor that he was, knew well-enough to not correct her on that mistake, even if the sailor inside him cringed.)

Killian was about to dig his phone from his pocket when Henry began to talk. 

"Did your brother -- uh, the older one -- teach you how to sail?"

"Ah, no. I spent practically my whole life on a ship. We picked it up together."

"Oh." Henry sounded disappointed. "So what did Liam teach you?"

Killian thought for a moment. "He taught me how to read, for one. He would sneak books from the captain's quarters, and then practice with me. He was flogged for it more than once, but he thought I was worth it."

“Was it worth it?”

“I suppose so.”

Killian frowned at the memory. Killian remembered telling his brother that he didn't need to know how to read. Most of the other sailors on the ship couldn't, and they did well enough. But Liam had been adamant. He viewed it as their best chance of getting out, a useful skill to barter for their freedom. Their literacy ensured their time at the Naval Academy much easier. Killian never got the chance to truly thank Liam for that.

“What else did your brother teach you?”

“Plenty,” Killian replied with a laugh. It felt nice to talk about his brother with Henry. It was all too rare of an experience for him. Henry rarely asked about Liam, and the only questions about Killian's past that he cared to know involved his sanitized pirate tales. Killian wasn’t sure why Henry was asking about Liam, but –

_ Oh. _

“Henry,” he began, trying his best to carefully consider his words. He didn’t want to mess this up. Killian took a deep breath. “My relationship with Liam – ah, Liam was as much as a father to me as he was a brother.”

“So?”

Killian raked his fingers through his hair. “So what I’m saying is that I don’t want you to be a Liam to your younger brother or sister.”

“Why not? You idolize your brother,” Henry insisted. Killian tried his best not to panic. He knew this was a delicate issue. It had to be, if he was right about what Henry feared.

“Exactly, and I don’t want that for you.” The moment Killian said those words, he knew Henry would interpret them the wrong way. He was correct, and Henry’s face fell dramatically. He appeared hurt, which was the exact opposite of what Killian wanted. “Henry, I loved Liam dearly, but our dynamic wasn’t healthy for either of us at times.”

Henry softened a bit, but he still looked somewhat affronted. At the very least, this was better than him storming off. “Why not?” he asked.

“In my mind, I always viewed my brother as the paragon of all things good and moral. I looked up to him, yes, but I often felt that I could never live up to the example he set,” he tried to explain. “As for Liam, because of the way our father left us, he felt the need to be the best that he could be…which isn’t always a bad thing. Except, of course, he felt like he could never fail or allow me to see any weakness, which harmed him.”

“So you’re saying you want me to be a failure,” Henry surmised, but there was a hint of teasing in his voice. It was something Emma would say. It made Killian love him even more.

“No, but I want you to feel comfortable with failing.” Killian placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I want you to be a positive influence in your sibling’s life, but I want you to also feel comfortable living your own. I don’t want you to be Liam Jones. I want you to be you, Henry Mills, and no one else.”

“That’s…really cheesy.”

“But it’s the truth,” Killian replied. “Henry, I have no doubt you will be a fine older brother. None. The fact that you’re even moderately concerned is evidence enough of that.”

They sailed in comfortable silence for awhile. Killian managed to take a photo of Henry at the helm. He’d tried to be discreet, but Henry caught him anyway. Henry rolled his eyes, an action that was becoming more and more common. Killian was already anticipating the difficulties he and Emma might face with both a teenager and an infant in the home, but he was always up for a challenge. 

“You’re going to be one of those dads that documents everything, aren’t you?” Henry asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“This is for your mother.” Though, Killian couldn’t see what was necessarily wrong with documenting his children’s lives. What he would have given to be able to have a photograph of him and Liam together! “Besides, don’t act like the lasses at your school won’t be impressed by photographic evidence of you captaining the finest ship in any realm.”

Henry rolled his eyes  _ again _ , but this time it was accompanied by a blush. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

Killian was tempted to ruffle the boy’s hair, but knew it wouldn’t be appreciated. He settled on winking at Henry, which only made him flush more. Teenagers were _ fun _ . 

“You’ll be good too, you know,” Henry said suddenly, clearly changing the subject. He looked thoughtful, though, quirking his head to the side.    
  
Of course, Killian didn’t know to what Henry was referring, so he asked, “Good at what?”

“Being a dad. I mean, you already kind of are, but to the baby. You’ll be good too.”

“Really now?” Killian couldn’t hide his wide grin, and if the salt was stinging his eyes and making them appear watery, then so be it.

“I mean, you’d be better if you let me sail unsupervised…” His voice trailed off considerably. “But, you know, you shouldn’t worry either. Not that you were, but if you did worry, don’t.” 

“I…” Killian grappled for the correct words to say. Finally, he settled on, “Thank you. I appreciate hearing that.”

“I mean, it’s the truth.”  Henry shrugged, averting his eyes.

There were few times when Killian felt as if he accomplished something good in his life. Becoming a lieutenant. Helping saving Henry from Pan. Belle forgiving him. Emma agreeing to marry him. David accepting him. But this...this was one of the best. 

“So, uh, we should be heading back soon, right? So Mom doesn’t worry?”

Killian was a good enough Captain to see the change in course for the conversation. He debated saying more, but decided the moment had passed. He knew Emma’s son well enough not to push, but he did  pull him into a sideways hug – stepfather’s prerogative, after all. 

“Aye, your mother will be expecting us soon,” he agreed. “You know how to turn the old girl around?”

“Yeah.”

Killian outstretched his hook, indicating the open seas. “Then she’s yours, my boy. Sail us home.”

Henry whooped eagerly, and together they set their sails back to Storybrooke. 

Back to home.

  
  



	3. Fireball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma's growing tired of the town busy-bodies (does everyone have an opinion about her pregnancy), so Regina offers her advice on how to blow off some steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to unfolded73 for the beta!

Emma was going to kill someone, and since she was Sheriff, she could get away with it. 

No one would suspect her. She was Emma Swan-Jones: Sheriff, Savior, once Slayer and now Friend of Dragons. She was also the pregnant lady, and who would suspect the pregnant lady? Anyone with a brain, that's who. Because it was her pregnancy that was driving her to consider homicide.

No, no, that wasn't quite right. Her pregnancy wasn't making her want to kill anyone, it was the way people  _ reacted _ to her pregnancy that had her seeing red. People apparently went insane around pregnant women. It was as if she was giving off a magical aura that made them lose all sense of decency or respect, and that her belly was some weird homing beacon.

First of all, why did people feel the need to touch her? Emma had never been a super touchy-feely person. She was called prickly for a reason. There were a select few people she would allow into her space, and she was fine with them. But Happy wasn't one of those people. Neither was Susan who ran the gas station, and certainly not Henry's track coach. People who had never even shaken her hand suddenly decided that attempting to touch her belly would be the best greeting. She was barely even showing. Okay, that was a lie, she was clearly pregnant, but she wasn't _that_ pregnant. And even if she was _that_ pregnant, it still didn't give strangers permission to try and touch her stomach.   

Thankfully, one of the perks of having a husband who was once a villain was that people shied away from invading her space whenever he was around. Was it insulting that people didn't respect her pregnant self enough to leave her alone? Absolutely. But over the course of her life, Emma had learned to choose her battles, and this wasn’t one of them. If strangers avoided touching her because they were afraid Killian's hook might end up embedded in their abdomen, then so be it. She could deal with the vaguely misogynistic mindsets later. 

Of course, Killian had his own issues. She loved her husband. She had zero doubt he was going to be a great father. He already was with Henry, so this kid would be no different. And, well, now that they knew it was going to be a girl, she knew he'd be even more doting. (Not that he wouldn't be with a son, he absolutely would. It's just that she could easily see their little girl having him wrapped around her finger. Dear God, she was going to have to be bad cop, wasn't she?) But there was also such a thing as  _ too  _ doting, which he was now. 

At first, she appreciated it. She felt pampered, adored, precious -- even more so than he normally made her feel. But Emma was a woman who'd taken care of herself for over two decades. She was independent, and she prided herself on that. It was a characteristic that she wanted to instill in their daughter, only without the baggage. Naturally, that meant that sooner or later, Killian's doting would cause her to feel claustrophobic. 

With Killian, she knew it came from a place of love. He wanted to do everything to ensure her and their daughter's safety. That meant fetching her food whenever she wanted, but it also meant slight critiques of what she was eating, switching her to decaf and the like.

_ "It can't possibly be that different." _

_ "It is and it sucks." _

He argued that she should stick to desk duty, despite the fact that she could still move around. And she didn't have to get that close to any criminals -- not that petty town criminals were that violent to begin with -- she had magic, after all. And she understood, really. Everyone he loved had died (including herself, briefly) or abandoned him, and Killian was going to do everything possible to protect his growing family. That was why she didn't complain too much, only ever putting her foot down when it came to her career. 

And everything would have been fine if it had begun and ended with Killian. Only it hadn't. Everyone had an opinion on what she should drink or eat or do. At one point, Granny had refused to serve her onion rings, which made Emma's hormonal self actually cry. That had been terrible, because then the whole town was on watch around her, lest they hurt her "delicate pregnancy feelings." Grumpy had nearly manhandled her grocery bags out of her arms, arguing that she shouldn't be carrying anything too heavy -- might harm the pregnancy. 

"Don't you care about your baby, sister?"

She almost, almost turned him into a tree -- a small, lame tree that would have made Charlie Brown's Christmas tree look like the most beautiful thing ever. But she didn’t, because she was a hero…and because it would give the townsfolk more ammunition for the pregnancy brain theory. Jerks.

It was awful. She never had to deal with that kind of treatment when she was pregnant in prison. (Who would have thought that prison could actually one-up Storybrooke at something?)

Currently, the whole town had her hiding in her house. She felt a little bit like a coward, but for once she wanted her and her baby to be completely off-limits. Was that so wrong?

_ Knock. Knock. _

Apparently so.

Sighing, Emma pushed herself up from the couch and padded to the door. If it was Belle with more pregnancy books or her mother with additional designs for the nursery, she just might scream. (She loved her friends and family. She did. She just had to remind herself of that more often than not in recent weeks.)

Instead, Emma was surprised to see Regina on the other side. Though she and Regina were close, her enemy-turned-friend rarely made surprise house calls. The only reason she ever came by unannounced was if Henry forgot something at her place, but she was empty-handed.

"Hey," Emma greeted, stepping aside to allow Regina entrance. Emma quickly glanced around, checking to see if anything was too messy. She hated surprise guests. "Henry's at the movies with some friends."

Regina waved her off. "I'm not here for Henry, I'm here for you. Put some shoes on, we're going out."

Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. "The last time we went out, my mother nearly got into a fight with Vikings and I cried into a napkin at a bar."

"You have to admit seeing Snow that drunk was worth it."

Emma thought back to her discovery that the kind mixologist Aesop was actually Gideon in disguise. Nope. Definitely not worth it. 

"You know I can't drink, right?" Emma asked, pointing to her stomach. Regina rolled her eyes and gave Emma her most "do you think I am that stupid" expression. "Just checking, because most of what we do when we hang out is drink."

"Emma, we're not going drinking. We're going to have fun."

Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously, despite beginning to search for her sneakers. God, if Regina of all people began to treat her like she was some porcelain doll, Emma might go full Dark Swan again. Once she finished tying her shoes, she stretched out her arms. "Okay, I'm ready for fun."

And then Emma was suddenly engulfed in smoke. She felt the familiar pull of magical teleportation, and braced herself. When the smoke lifted, Emma was no longer in her living room, but standing in a cleared green, circled by trees. Looking around, she noticed multiple targets scattered around.

_What the hell?_  

"Your idea of fun is target practice?" Emma asked, her incredulity apparent. This was not what she had been expecting. Had she been, Emma would have come more prepared. "Are we going to poof in guns, or are we going for weapons with a bit more flair?"

She had always wanted to try a bow and arrow, after all. Her mother and Robin Hood had always made it look so cool. Regina, however, had other plans. 

"Weapons? Please, Emma. You're a Sorceress. We're using magic." A fireball appeared in Regina's hand, and she smirked. She threw it and one of the targets burst into flames. "More fun, don't you think?"  

Emma watched as the flames licked the air and smoke twirled skyward. She closed her eyes and channeled her own magic, smiling when she felt it coalesce in her palm into something bright and powerful. 

"Oh, hell yes."

Her own target erupted into flames.  _ Bullseye, baby _ , Emma thought triumphantly. She channeled another fireball and threw it toward a different target further away. She continued like that for some time, right up until she realized that Regina wasn't joining in. 

"What gives?"

"I'm not the one who needs to work out her frustrations," Regina replied. There was a that's-what-she-said joke in there somewhere, but Emma was sure Regina wouldn't accept the commentary. 

"You aren't frustrated? You're mayor of this town. When Mom was mayor, she yelled at, like, everyone. Let me rephrase: being mayor almost broke Snow White." 

"And teaching a classroom of elementary school students would almost break me. We all have our strengths, Emma," Regina replied without a hint of smugness. Sometimes Emma marveled at how far they had all come. "Besides, look around. Who do you think created this place?"

Emma glanced at the targets. Much of them were aflame, but weren't burning to the ground at they should. It was as if they were magically protected. 

"Impressive."

"I like to pretend the one on the far left is Grumpy," Regina commented with a smirk. She then sighed and shrugged. "I thought it would be best if I made a space where I could exercise my darker feelings without...exercising my darker feelings." 

"So instead of blowing up Granny's or Zelena, you blow up these." Emma gestured to the targets that were slowly turning back to their original state. "And you brought me here because...?"

"I thought it would be bad for town morale if you killed half the dwarf population. Not that they don't deserve it."

Emma sighed. "Am I that obvious?"

"In a word, painfully."

"Ugh."

"You're handling it better than I would be," Regina said with a rueful smile. 

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better."

"Which is why you now have these." Regina waved over to the targets. "Now, flame on. I know you can do more." 

"Flame on?" Emma quirked a brow at the reference. 

Regina shrugged. "You don't think I bought Henry those comic books without reading them first, do you?" 

An image of Regina in full Evil Queen regalia reading an array comic books rose unbidden to her mind, and Emma had to stifle a laugh. She doubted her friend would appreciate it. Instead, Emma channeled those thoughts into another ball of energy and directed it at a nearby target. Regina was right. It really did feel better to let off steam this way. 

"You do realize I'm going to come out here all of the time now, right? At least, up until the baby is born." Emma thought back to how irritable her mother became after one too many all-nighters with Neal. "Maybe after, too."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Regina responded with a wink. "Now what do you say we have a little competition. Whoever hits the most targets in under a minute wins?"

Emma grinned. "You're on."

Emma won, and later that evening she rewarded herself with ice cream, its cone dipped in fudge and topped with sprinkles. And when Goldilocks made a passing comment about how it must be nice to have an excuse to eat whatever she wanted, Emma only smiled.

After all, she now had target practice. 


	4. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle discusses Gideon's magic with Killian, leading him to wonder what it might mean for his unborn daughter. Thankfully, Emma is there to calm him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to unfolded73 for the beta!

There were many things that Killian believed the denizens of the Land Without Magic took for granted. Warm running water, the machines that kept the air cool in the summer and warm in the winter, and the sheer availability of everything -- clothing, food, and information. The first time he'd stumbled across the food market, he'd marveled at the options. He could purchase fresh fruit and vegetables out of season, and there were spices from all over the world that cost barely any coin. Even better, he could use the magic box and "google", as Emma and the boy called it, a variety of recipes which he could then follow in the kitchen. He still preferred books to the Google, but he marveled at how easily he could find information cobbled together by experts on this matter or that. 

It was his quest for more information by means of books that drove Killian to the library. He had a few texts tucked under his arm to return, and was intent on gathering more. Besides, he hadn't spoken properly with Belle in a number of days, and he was eager to catch up with his friend. Unfortunately, when Killian entered the library, he found a mess of books scattered across the floor flung around the room, a shelf knocked haphazardly to its side.

Worry pricked at him, and he found himself reaching for the cutlass at his hip. It technically wasn't proper regulation for the Sheriff's deputy to carry a sword, but that was not a concession he was willing to make. Despite wearing the star of law enforcement, Killian was still a pirate, forever and always. A sword he would carry. He set down his stack of books, giving him free motion with his hooked arm. Should anything attack, he would be prepared.

"Belle?" he called out. Whatever caused this mess, he hoped that Belle was in a state to alert him of her location or safety.

Killian skirted around the books and upturned shelve. His stomach churned uncomfortably. He was not prepared for another villain, and Emma certainly wasn't in the condition to risk another battle, no matter how much she claimed otherwise.

He sighed deeply and silently thanked the gods when Belle walked briskly from the back of the library, a fussy Gideon secured in her arms, looking somewhat distressed but unharmed. Thankfully, she and her son were safe. 

"Sorry about the mess," she said. She swayed from side-to-side, her son calming at the motion. Killian took note for future reference. 

"Nothing for you to apologize for," he replied. He sheathed his sword. "What caused it?"

Belle frowned and glanced toward her son. "Gideon."

"He has magic." It was a statement, not a question. A foolish one at that, because of course he knew the boy had some magic. Killian saw what he became, the sorcery the boy's older self had used to torment him and Emma. Not willingly, Killian reminded himself, but it was difficult to shake the memory of Emma being stabbed. _Killed_.

"We didn't think it would develop so early," Belle replied, not taking her eyes off Gideon. "Well, I don't think Rumple wanted him to develop magic at all."

"That's surprising."

Belle glared at him. Her relationship with the Dark One was still a sore spot between them. He didn't trust the Crocodile, and doubted he ever would. Nevertheless, the man was still married to Belle, and they were trying to make the relationship work. Killian didn't necessarily approve, but Belle was her own woman, so he tried to keep the sniping remarks to a minimum.

"Believe it or not, he doesn't want that life for Gideon," Belle said evenly. "He knows better than anyone the damage magic can do, so he worries."

Belle sighed and walked over to the play area she kept for Gideon. After what happened with their child, both Belle and the Crocodile had been hesitant to hand him over to a babysitter. Killian doubted that Gideon would ever be allowed to be supervised by the fairies again. Not that Killian blamed them. If anything happened to his and Emma's babe...Killian shook his head, unwilling to think such thoughts. Their daughter would be fine.

Of course, Belle had thought the same with her son.

Killian watched the boy as he lunged for his toy blocks. He was already standing, and a few weeks ago, Belle had sent in a group message a video of Gideon taking tentative steps toward his father. How could this technically be the same person who'd run Emma through with a sword?

"For what it's worth, the only dark magic Gideon seemed to do was under the control of the Black Fairy," Killian said more for his own benefit than Belle's. He wouldn't grow up to hurt anyone, Emma or their daughter. "Magic doesn't necessarily turn one evil."

Emma was proof enough of that.

"That's what I said. Besides, between Rumple, Regina, and Emma, Gideon will have plenty of opportunities to learn how to control his magic. There are people here who want to protect him." Belle folded her arms around herself. She was clearly distraught by the whole affair. "Rumple doesn't necessarily see it that way."

"We would watch out for him, you know," Killian promised, feeling quite defensive. He might have his own issues with the boy, but he wouldn't want anything to actually happen to him.

"I know that, and I think Rumple knows that," Belle said, even though she didn't sound fully convinced. "It's just..."

She trailed off, and her expressed knitted into a look of conflict.

"It's just what?"

She sighed. "Rumple wants to bind his powers."

Killian quirked his brow. "What does that entail?"

"He wants to use magic to remove his powers, temporarily -- until he is no longer a baby," Belle explained.

Killian considered her words. Loathe as he was to admit it, the Crocodile's plan wasn't the worst. He knew how unstable magic could be when wielded by an untrained user. Strong emotions still occasionally gave Emma trouble controlling her own powers, and she was quite capable.  An infant or toddler would have no such ability to manage its strength. Books flung around the library were one thing, but Gideon could accidentally cause more damage with a full-blown tantrum. 

Of course, Killian knew better than to give his opinion entirely unsolicited. He'd learned that quickly with Belle, so he instead tried to coax her to explain her own feelings. "And you disagree?"

"Yes? No? Honestly, I don't know." Belle replied. She looked over to Gideon, who was now banging loudly on a toy piano. Thankfully, Killian was the only patron in the library. "On one hand, he's right that it could cause more problems with him as a baby. You can see that." 

Belle gestured toward the books still on the floor.

"But?"

"But if we do bind his powers, then we will be denying a fundamental part of him, which feels wrong." She began to pace. "Honestly, it’s the whole thing with the shears all over again."

Killian recalled her conflict with removing Gideon's destiny and how it had driven her from her husband. He also remembered his own struggle with Emma’s fate.

“But you said yourself, it’s only temporary,” Killian reminded her. “It wouldn’t be removing his abilities completely. You could get them back.” 

“I know,” Belle sighed. “After everything that happened with Rumple’s mother and Gideon -- if we had used the shears like Rumple had wanted, would she have taken him? I sometimes wonder that I was wrong then, and if I am now…”

She trailed off, and Killian could see the tears brimming in her eyes.

“You did what you thought was best,” he assured her. He hated seeing his friend full of self-doubt. She had no way of knowing just what would come from her decisions early in her pregnancy.

“And I almost lost him.” Belle brushed at the corner of her eyes. She shook her head as if willing the tears away. She then moved to pick up the books, and Killian joined her.

They worked in silence to the backdrop noises of Gideon’s babbling as he played with his toys. Killian wasn’t sure what to say to Belle, or even the best way to comfort her, so he stayed quiet and busied himself with righting the bookshelves. He’d spent enough time here to learn the ordering system so he could put everything in its correct place. Finally, the library was sorted, even if Belle still didn’t appear terribly happy. 

“What would you do?” she asked suddenly, catching him off guard.

 “In which situation?”

“This,” she answered, gesturing toward Gideon. “What would you and Emma do, if your baby has magic? Have you talked about it?”

“Not explicitly, no.”

Emma made offhand comments every now and then, but they’d never actively discussed how they’d handle a magical child. They hadn’t even named the baby or decided on the color for a nursery (much to the chagrin of Snow). How could they be expected to discuss the possibility of their child being magical if they couldn’t yet make those simpler decisions?

Belle, thankfully, didn’t pry for more, instead settling on telling him, “You can read all the books, but nothing ever prepares you for being a parent.”

Killian didn’t stay long at the library after that, but Belle's words haunted him for the rest of the day. How would he and Emma handle their child having magic? They'd love her regardless. Nothing could ever make them not love their daughter, even if she decided to change her name to Gold and ally herself with the Crocodile. But fear had started to prick at him.

What if she had magic? What if she were given a destiny similar to Emma's? What then? These were things Killian had forced himself not to consider in the early months of the pregnancy, intent on creating an air of calm around an already anxious Emma. He tried to remember the words he'd used to soothe his beloved, reminding himself just as Belle had done that they had family to support them and protect their child. But Killian had never done well with calming himself, often feeling adrift in a storm of emotions. 

He knew part of the reason that fear gripped him now was the tangibility of their child. Before, though the pregnancy had been very real, it felt like just an idea. The possibilities were endless. But "it" had become a "she", the bundle of gray on the screen resembling a person. He and Emma had a list of names they endlessly debated, and in a few months time, he would be holding his child in his arms.  
  
Gods, he was terrified.

He tried to busy himself with tasks to keep his mind occupied. He filed documents at the station. He researched a particularly complicated recipe to make for dinner, and set out to the store for all of the ingredients. He cooked, and relished the way Emma's eyes grew wide when she saw the dish, as well as her sighs of enjoyment as she ate.

Unfortunately, none of those things kept the weight of his worries off his shoulders, a fact that Emma cottoned onto quickly.

"Okay, what's up?" she asked him as they worked through their nightly chore of cleaning dishes.

"Nothing to worry about, love."

"Uh-huh." She sounded unconvinced. "You've been broody all night, and you've been drying the same plate for the past five minutes. So, I'll repeat again, what's up?"

He sighed. There was no use in evading her questions. She was damn fine at interrogation, which he had the pleasure of witnessing occassionally at the station and the torture of being subjected to at home. "I visited the library and had conversation with Belle that vexed me, that's all."

"Was it about her and Gold? 'Cause babe, you've gotta accept that ship has--"

"It wasn't about her relationship with the Crocodile. We discussed Gideon...and his magic."

"What about it?" Emma asked, leaning against the counter. The remaining dishes sat forgotten in the sink, and Killian knew that should they continue the conversation, they would remain forgotten.

"He's already exhibiting his abilities, which obviously worries his parents." 

"Um, yeah, I bet." Realization quickly dawned on Emma's face. She reached out to grab his hook, and nudged him away from the kitchen counter. "C'mon, this is a couch conversation."

He followed her -- he'd always follow her -- as she led him to the couch in their den. They settled together, Emma leaning her back against the arm to better face him. That sat in silence for a moment, and a quirk in his wife's brow indicated he was expected to speak first.

"Belle and the Crocodile are debating whether or not to temporarily bind Gideon's powers," Killian explained, "and she asked me what we had discussed if," he gestured to her rounded belly, "she did the same. Showed early signs of her powers, that is."

Emma pursed her lips. "You know, the benefit of our friends having babies before us was that we were supposed get advice from them, not the other way around."

Despite the severity of the situation, Killian couldn't help but crack a smile. "Aye, there's that."

"There's no guarantee, you know, that she'll have magic. She might not," Emma said, placing her hands protectively over her stomach. "I mean, Henry doesn't have magic. Neal hasn't shown any signs either, despite also being the product of True Love or whatever. And other than me, it's not like anyone else in my family is inherently magical. My magic could just be a destiny thing."

But that raised the silent question: what if she has a destiny?

The thought had him shifting uncomfortably on the couch. It was one thing to worry about her being a target because of him or Emma. That Killian was sure he’d at least come to term with and could potentially control. But an outside force -- fate, destiny, a god -- dictating his daughter's life and safety didn't sit right with him.

"But, hey, if she does end up with magic or a destiny, she has us and our family," Emma said, and Killian wasn't sure if it served as a reminder for her or him. "You told me that once."

"It's also what I told Belle."

"It's easier to say things than it is to believe them.”

He barked out a bitter laugh. "So it seems, my love."

Emma reached out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing tight. "It's okay to freak out a bit, you know. You don't have to act one hundred percent fine with everything all of the time. You can talk to me about things that scare you." 

"Ah, but therein lies the problem: I don't wish to also alarm you."

"Yeah, well, sooner or later Belle would probably be asking me the same thing, causing me to freak out anyway," Emma replied with a shrug. "At least this way, I know I'm not alone in my anxieties. It makes me feel less like a hormonal crazy lady to know you also worry about these things."

"You are not a hormonal crazy lady."

“Damn straight,” she stressed. She bit her lip, and considered him carefully. “So what did you tell her? You know, about what’d we do in her situation. 

“That we hadn’t discussed it,” he answered truthfully. “That seemed to be enough for her.” 

Emma shifted herself so that she could lean against him. His hooked arm automatically went around her shoulders and she sighed. Her pressure against his side was a calming weight, anchoring his tumultuous feelings. 

“What side was Belle on with the whole binding Gideon’s powers thing?” Emma asked, her voice slightly muffled as she buried herself further into his side.

He placed a kiss on her head before answering. “She’s conflicted. She believes if she does, she’ll be suppressing something fundamentally him. But she also worries about his safety. A small child with unbelievable power and little control over it is dangerous, not just for him, but others.”

“What would you want to do?” Emma asked, finally getting to the point they’d been dancing around since they retired to the couch. She tilted her head up to look at him, her green eyes shining bright. He hoped their daughter inherited her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He felt ashamed to say such a thing, as if he was failing his unborn child for questioning the best way to protect her. Emma tugged him closer to her.

“It’s okay not to know, Killian. I don’t either,” she said. She was quiet for awhile before speaking again. “I talked to my mom not long ago about being pregnant. Did I tell you that?”

“Regarding what?” he asked, confused. He knew that Emma and her mother talked often about a variety of things, and the pregnancy had factored in heavily recently. Of course Emma talked to her mother about being pregnant. He just wasn’t sure why it was relevant.

“About worrying and stuff. You remember how crazy she got when she was pregnant with Neal,” Emma replied.

Killian did remember, though he couldn’t recall everything Snow had discussed. She’d rattled off plenty of facts about pregnancy and illnesses, but he’d been distracted then, mourning the loss of the Jolly and desperately hoping Emma would someday see him as a better man. Looking back, he wished he’d paid better attention.

“Anyway, she and I talked about that, and she gave me some pretty solid advice.” 

“Did she now?” He didn’t doubt that; Emma’s mother was a wise and caring woman.

“Yeah. She told me we could worry about everything that could happen, stress ourselves trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario, or we could accept whatever might happen and go from there.” 

“That doesn’t sound like the best plan,” he said. As a ship’s captain, he’d liked to be prepared for all scenarios, best and worst case. Not that he knew what was which in this instance.

He could sense Emma’s glare in response. “Basically, she was saying that we can drive ourselves crazy over what may or may not happen to the baby, or we can take the problems as they come.”

“I’d prefer for no problems to come our way.” 

“We’re having a kid, Captain, there’s no avoiding it,” Emma said with a laugh.

“A man can but dream.”

“Hey,” Emma said, looking up at him and tilting his chin toward her. “I’m scared too, but we can plan and plan, and then once we meet her, we might realize our first plan was wrong and end up starting over from square one. She might have magic, she might not. But right now, maybe it’s best for us to focus on ensuring that she’s the most loved baby in Storybrooke.”

“She’s already the most loved baby in Storybrooke,” Killian countered with a grin. Emma matched his smile. Her words made sense, even if he still wasn’t sure. Then again, he doubted he ever would be. 

“Besides, we can just see how Gideon pans out with whatever Belle and Gold decide.”

This time, Killian couldn’t help but laugh at Emma’s comment.

“Aye, darling, sounds like a plan.”

 


	5. Daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina and Snow throw Emma a shower, and Emma has a heart-to-heart with Zelena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to unfolded73 for the wonderful beta, and being a sounding board. Sorry for the delay on the chapter. I am finishing up my CSBB, and after July 15, I will be far more free, which means for updates!

Her mother's farmhouse could only be described as a rainbow explosion. Multi-colored streamers hung from the ceiling, the cupcakes were iced in a variety of bright colors -- hot pinks, yellows, oranges, and blue. Snow and Regina had really outdone themselves with the baby shower. Not only were the decorations wonderful, but so was the food -- cupcakes, donuts, mini grilled cheese sandwiches -- basically everything Emma could want.

Emma only had one rule regarding the shower. Well, two. The first was not to have any weird or gross games, which Regina had thankfully backed her up on. The second rule was to avoid an over-abundance of pink. It wasn't as if she was opposed to her daughter wearing pink or dresses, she just didn't want that to be the only option for her. 

So far, both of her requirements were being met.

"We're celebrating the birth of a new princess," Snow commented when Emma expressed her awe, "and most importantly, were celebrating my new granddaughter."  

"Please don't go all Jurassic Park on me and say you 'spared no expense'," Emma teased as she loaded her plate with more mini grilled cheeses. They were heavenly. "Actually, I take it back, these are fantastic. Don't spare any expense next time."

 "Next time? You and Guyliner are already talking about baby number two?" Regina asked from her station in the kitchen. She was mixing mocktails, though Emma was sure that her friend had spiked her own.

"Oh God, no. I just meant in the greater ‘next time’ sense, for whomever has a baby next. Or any birthday parties."

In fact, Emma was fairly certain she didn't want any more babies after this one. She already wasn't a fan of the toll this pregnancy was taking on her body, and she doubted it would get any easier with age. Besides, she imagined she and Killian were going to have their hands quite full soon with this one.  

Any further line of questioning was cut off as guests began to arrive. Emma had been half-convinced that her mother was going to invite the entire female population of Storybrooke, but she was pleased to see the women arriving were those she was already friendly with. 

"It was watching him with Alexandra, wasn't it?" Ashley asked with a wink shortly after she arrived. "I knew those gears in your head had to have started turning when you saw how sweet he was with her."

"It may have nudged me along a tiny bit," Emma answered. Not too seriously, as she had been convinced she was going to die at the time. But the sight of Killian jovially interacting with the young girl had reminded Emma about the future they could have had, if she were not bound by fate.

The future they were sharing now. 

"It's still shocking to me to see you two married," Aurora admitted, her cheeks turning pink at her confession. "I mean, it's obvious that you and the Captain both truly love one another, but I never would have considered it when you first met and he was working for Cora." 

Emma couldn't blame Aurora there. Even though Killian had made an effort to protect the princess' heart, he had also helped steal it in the first place. Besides, even though she felt a connection with Killian when they first met, she never envisioned it blooming to this. 

"If it makes you feel better, neither did I," Emma assured Aurora. 

"Me either," Snow added. She reached over to grab Emma's hand. "But I'm glad we all were wrong. I couldn't imagine our family without him now."

From across the room, Emma could hear Zelena mimicking a gagging noises. "You lot keep talking about how you never expected Storybrooke's golden couple to get together, and I've spent my whole time here trying to figure out why it took her so long to climb him like a tree."

"Zelena!"

"My mother is right here," Emma emphasized, waving her hands toward Snow. She just knew she was turning the color of her favorite jacket.

"What? Regina is technically your step-grandmother, and I know you've mentioned sex things around her."

"Be that as it may," Regina cut in with a severe tone, her voice all Evil Queen, "this party is to celebrate the baby, not to debate just which position made her."

"Someone kill me now." She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head as a few of her friends snickered. 

"Well how am I supposed to know what happens at these events? I never got the chance for anyone to host me one.  _ Someone _ decided to speed up my pregnancy."

An awkward silence descended upon the room, and Emma felt very much like she had been punched in the gut. It was a deserved verbal gut punch, in her opinion, because what she had done as the Dark One had been cruel, but she hadn't expected it and wasn't prepared for the barb. Emma tried to think of words to say, but they died in her throat.

"Zelena, can you come into the kitchen and help me whip up some more drinks?" Regina's voice was like ice.

"Fine. But I was just stating the obvious. No need to be so touchy." 

And then Zelena was gone, pulled into the kitchen to surely get scolded in some manner. Not that Emma was entirely sure she deserved it; maybe a lesson in tact, but that was probably fruitless with the Wicked Witch.

The mood at the party was still awkward. It was Belle who broke the silence, clapping her hands together, and announcing, "How about we play a game?"

Emma wasn't in the mood for games, but she acquiesced because she wasn't about to further sour the mood of the event, especially after all of the hard work everyone seemed to put into it. Granny was already glaring daggers at the doorway through which Zelena and Regina had left. Emma didn't want to make it worse.

Belle had left the room shortly after her inquiry, only to come back with a rather large stack of children's books. She handed them out at random.

"Now, Emma, prior to the game, everyone sent in their favorite children's book, or one they thought every child should have. Only we didn't tell each other the book we were bringing. So, the point of the game is to try to pair everyone with their book. I also threw in a few extra to make it more difficult," Belle explained. Well, the game wasn't gross, but it was a little on the strange side. Emma wondered if this was the type of game Belle would have wanted to the play at the shower she never had the chance to receive. "At the end of the game, you get to keep all of the books, so you'll have your own little library!"

Yes, yes it was.

Admittedly, it was a really entertaining game, and more difficult than she expected. Some were easy. Belle clearly had submitted  _ Her Handsome Hero _ into the game, but the others through her for a loop. Aurora, of all people, had submitted  _ Go the Fuck to Sleep _ . 

"Sometimes you just feel like saying it," she explained, blushing. Emma had a feeling she wasn't normally openly crass. "And besides, it's a bit of a joke between Phillip and I with the whole sleeping curse." 

Surprisingly, there were few fairy tale stories, and none about the people they actually knew. 

"Why confuse her with the wrong versions?" Snow explained with a shrug. Emma refrained from telling her that number one on Henry's "To Do" list for his younger sibling was to show her _Peter Pan._  

Eventually Zelena and Regina returned, the former looking somewhat surly, but holding her tongue. Emma felt another pang of guilt, but pushed it down. Later, she told herself.

There was another round of games, the second one involving cupcakes and a hidden baby that Ashley won, before everyone gathered around Emma as she opened gifts.

Growing up, Emma rarely received any presents. Having everyone gathered around her was oddly foreign, and she tried to mask any discomfort she felt. This was everything she had wanted as a child -- a loving family and encouraging friends -- but now that she had it, she was still unsure of how to react. A small part of her, the little lost girl she doubted would ever fully disappear, still doubted she even deserved all of this attention. 

"You guys really didn't have to do all of this," she said, eyeing what could only be described as a mountain of carefully wrapped gifts.

"We did," her mother insisted, placing a hand over hers and squeezing it encouragingly, "and most important of all, we wanted to."

"It's about time we had something to celebrate other than defeating the latest villain," Granny commented gruffly, causing an outbreak of laughter. "I'd much rather have my catering services go toward you rather than another 'we didn't die today' party."

"And since you were the one who did a lot of the almost-dying to save us, it's the least we could do," Ashley added sincerely. 

Emma felt tears welling, ones she couldn't solely attribute to pregnancy hormones. Even if she totally was going to anyway. Willing them down, she laughed uneasily. "Well, if that's the case..."

Gifts were soon passed over to her, and Emma opened them with care. She was surprised when she opened a rather large gift from Belle. She had been expecting books, but instead it was full of tiny pirate-themed baby items -- onesies with anchors and skulls and crossbones, pirate socks and bobs, and --

"Is this a stuffed crocodile?" 

"Rumple thought it would be amusing," Belle answered with a twinkle in her eye. 

"Leave it to the Dark One to have a strange sense of humor," Zelena commented, as Regina did her best to hide a snigger. "Though you might want to check to see if it's cursed." 

"He would not curse it!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't curse a stuffed animal," Regina said, casting a significant look to Emma that said yes, she would be checking for curses, even if she wouldn’t admit to doing so in front of Belle.

Emma set the crocodile to the side. She would leave it to Regina to figure out if it was safe, though she doubted Gold would be cruel enough to curse a her child's stuffed toy. But Emma had learned to err on the side of caution. (And even if it wasn't cursed, she doubted Killian would want the thing anywhere near their kid.)

She gasped when she opened a gift from Granny, a knitted blanket not dissimilar to her own.

"It's beautiful," she said. She clutched it closely to her chest. "Really, thank you."

"It's my honor," Granny replied, and much to Emma's surprise, it appeared that the older woman was dabbing her own eyes with a napkin.

Eventually Emma came to the end of the pile of gifts. At some point, Regina had magicked in a lovely rocking chair as a present, telling Emma how Henry had loved being rocked to sleep. Though Emma had muddy, fake memories of Henry's infancy, she appreciated Regina's explanation and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank you," she whispered in her friend's ear, not sure if she meant more for the gift or the way she raised their son. 

The party dissolved into idle chatter and snacking after that. Granny had catered a lot of food, and no one was willing to let it go to waste. Especially Emma, who was helping herself to her third plate of an assortment of mini grilled cheeses, cookies, and vegetables. Adding vegetables made things healthier, right? As Emma was trying to decide if she could get away with eating another cupcake, she overheard Regina telling a story of Henry’s first attempt at changing baby Robyn’s diaper -- a memory that never failed to make Henry turn bright red -- Emma realized that she hadn’t seen Zelena since they finished with gifts. She glanced around the room, and sure enough, Zelena was missing. 

Another wave of guilt crested over Emma, and leaving her cupcake forgotten, she decided to seek out the Wicked Witch. Emma knew how it felt to see others get what she never had. And since she was more or less the root cause of Zelena’s shortened pregnancy, she felt an obligation to apologize to the other woman, or at the very least attempt to make her feel comfortable. 

Emma found Zelena on the back deck, leaning against the wooden railing with a glass of amber liquid in her hand. 

“Hey,” Emma greeted. She felt somewhat awkward approaching Zelena. They weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t just acquaintances either. Emma walked to stand next to her, and tapped her hands against the wood. “Is is bad how much I miss drinking booze? I have no idea what that says about me.”

“It says you are exceptionally terrible at small talk,” Zelena replied with a bitter laugh. “Shouldn’t you be inside celebrating? All of those people are here for you, you know.”

“I think they can deal without me for a few minutes,” Emma said. She took a deep breath before continuing, “Listen, Zelena, I want to apologize for everything I did while I was the Dark One, and how it affected you and Robyn.” 

“Feeling guilty, are we?” Zelena asked. She took a long sip of her drink. “It’s no matter. It’s not like you lot would have done anything for me or her then. I would have been locked in the prison until delivery.”

While that was probably true and honestly deserved at the time, Emma thought this was neither the time nor place to bring it up. Instead, she went with the other truth, “It doesn’t make what I did right.” 

“No, it really doesn’t.” Zelena looked down at her drink, and swirled the remaining liquid. “It’s a little bit strange, isn’t it, how many terrible things we’ve all done to one another. We both know each other’s sins. Regina cursed this entire town. Your husband nearly killed Belle, and her husband’s fucked over us all more than once. And here we all are together, celebrating a new baby.”

“I think that’s called being a family.” That sounded like something her mother would say, and it felt right in a weird sort of way. They weren’t a traditional family by any sort of definition, but Emma had grown to love how her family wasn’t exactly cookie-cutter. 

“God, what a mess we are.”

“Yeah, but it’s our mess.”

“It makes you wonder what we brought our children into,” Zelena muttered before finishing her drink. She laughed before saying, “Apologies. I was warned not to make things too dark today.”

“You’re not wrong, though. And sometimes the truth is pretty dark and twisty,” Emma mused, thinking back to her fears when she first discovered the pregnancy. They hadn’t abated completely, and she doubted they ever would. “But I take comfort in the fact that I’m bringing her into a family that would raise hell to keep her safe.”

“Literally, in some cases.” 

“We’d do the same for Robyn, you know. She’s one of us,” Emma replied, to which Zelena gave he smile. “Honestly, I’m grateful for Robyn.”

“Everyone should be grateful for her. She’s a gift. But why say that now?”

Emma gestured to her stomach. “Her.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied, not sure how to articulate her feelings on the subject. “I never really had a family growing up, and I was even worse at making friends. I had Lily, I guess, and it was great, but even that fell apart. And, I dunno, I’m not saying that they have to be friends, I mean I  _ want _ them to be, but I like that there will be another girl there who understands this mess of a family. God, I’m not saying this right--”

Zelena cut her off. “I’m glad Robyn has a family too, as strange as it is. And, you know, another girl to hang around. I’m already sure those boys will be handfuls.”

“And our girls won’t?” 

“True. I’ll honestly be a little disappointed if she doesn’t turn out a tiny bit wicked.”

“I was a thief and Killian’s a pirate. I think being a hellraiser is in this kid’s blood,” Emma said as she placed her hand lovingly on her stomach. A part of her was already dreading the teenage years. 

“I pity the fool who tries to stand in either of our girls’ ways,” Zelena commented, completely oblivious to her reference. Emma had to bite down a laugh. Now was not the time to point out a missed pop culture reference, especially now that things between her and Zelena were slightly on the mend. 

“Speaking of standing in people’s way, the last I checked, there were a ton of cupcakes left over. What do you say we go back to the party, and get them before they’re gone?”

“That is a terrible segue,” Zelena said. Despite her comment, she shrugged, and headed to the door. “I need more whiskey anyway.”

When they reentered the house, true to form, Zelena made a beeline for the kitchen and her mother’s stock of alcohol. Regina cast Emma a concerned look, stopping her before she could forge her own path to the dessert table. “Did she say anything to you? I told her--”

“Relax, it’s fine,” Emma assured her friend. “In fact, I think we bonded.”

“You bonded with my sister?” Regina couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice. 

“Hey, I’ve always heard babies have a weird way of bringing people together. This is another example of that,” Emma replied with a smile. Turning her attention away from Regina, she said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m growing a baby, and need a cupcake.”

And get a cupcake, Emma did. As Emma surveyed the party, from the food Granny provided, to her mother talking animatedly to Ashley and Aurora, to Regina watching the room like a hawk, to even Zelena with her whiskey now laughing with Belle, she felt thankful for the family her daughter was being born into, and the community she was inheriting. And as cheesy as it sounded, that truly was the best gift possible. 


End file.
